New York, New York
by Dr Anna
Summary: ER/Will&Grace, removed with rest of my stories in light of NC17 policy cause I want to archive all my stuff in one place. But haven't done this yet and I wrote more, so reuploaded.
1. Part 1

Title: New York, New York

Author: Anna (tinfoiltiarasxx@aol.com)

Part: 1/?

Rating: PG13

Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine

Author's Notes:  Following ff.net's new policy on NC17 fics, I'm soon to be moving all my stuff to a place where all of it can be archived together.  Will leave a note on my profile about where it will be when I do so.  

John Truman Carter the Third found himself lying on a forest green couch in an unfamiliar office.  Turning to the side, he was startled by a familiar balding and bespectacled presence.

"Mark?" He spluttered, "What in God's name are you doing here?"

Dr Greene smiled blandly.  "They told me you needed therapy, John; they didn't tell me you need that much therapy."

"And why the hell are you calling me John?"

"I was led to believe that was your name, isn't it?" 

The man had a point.  "I guess." 

Mark leaned forward, and patted him on the knee.

"Thank you for agreeing with me, establishing trust is the first vital step in the development of our relationship."

"Our relationship?"

"I understand this is a sensitive area for you, John, but I was actually referring to our doctor-patient relationship, considering how we are to be spending some time together over the next few weeks.  And hopefully in time we'll be able to resolve some of the difficulties you've been having…well, I would say 'recently', but it's been quite a while now, hasn't it?" 

"Carter…" A familiar voice seemed to be calling him.  "CARTER!"

And gaping with sheer amazement, Carter awoke with a start, the comforting darkness of the on-call room invaded by a small but still indecent amount of light, a recognizable shadow standing in the doorway.  Abby.

"What?" He enquired, tetchily. 

"Weaver wants to see you and all the attendings in the lounge."

"Why?"

Abby smiled, amused by his grumpiness. "I don't know, but she's walking about with this manic glint in her eyes, it's almost scary…  Just don't shoot the messenger, okay?"

"I wouldn't be tempted to if she hadn't woken me up so damn loudly."  He retorted, finally forcing himself up from the bed.

"Crazy night shift, huh?"

"Oh yeah, half the residents of the Drake Hotel down with food poisoning…  Note the scrubs?"

She already had, but the reason why he was wearing them wasn't what she was interested in.  Mmm, even with a five-o'clock shadow and dark rings round his eyes, the man looked good…

"What?" Carter asked, intrigued by the strange looks she seemed to be giving him.

"Oh, nothing, just a little sleep-deprived myself I guess…"

He smiled.  "Yeah?  You don't look it."

"Doctor's lounge," she blurted out, trying not to blush from the probably insignificant way that he was holding her gaze.

"What?"

"Meeting.  Weaver.  You and attendings.  Like I said."  Abby answered disjointedly, before disappearing off.  

"Right."  He stated purposefully.   Yawning, he wandered down the now deserted hallways and entered the lounge to everyone's looks as they sat in a circle around the table.  Funny how Weaver looked like the only one who actually wanted to be there, and man, was Abby right about the manic glint…

"Sorry," he attempted, not looking it.

"That's okay, Carter," Weaver replied, not looking like it was.  She seemed to have some sort of dossier open in front of her, he noticed as he took a seat between Susan and Mark.   

"So what's this all about, Kerry?" Mark enquired, being the only one out of the assembled company who could get away with saying it.

"As you all are probably aware, through some particular efforts on my part this year, we are actually several hundred dollars under our managerial budget."

By the looks of surprise that resultantly circulated round the group, she realised with shock that most of them, in actual fact had not been aware of her hard work.  What the hell was happening to this department?  Susan rolled her eyes; like, get to the point already!

"Robert has concurred that a worthy use of this money would be using this money to hone the managerial skills of you, the leaders of this department," Kerry continued hastily, "There is a week-long conference on Resource Management in the Emergency Room in New York in 3 weeks time.  I, of course, shall be required to attend this.  We shall also be able to offer places and afford cover for all of you, should you wish to attend."

Or in other words, unless you have one hell of an obligation elsewhere, you're all going to New York whether you like it or not, concluded Carter.   Similarly resigned expressions had also appeared on the faces of Susan and Luka.  As for Mark, he had made the tough decision to stand up for what he believed in, for one of the first times in his life.

"No way, Kerry.  I've been having some problems with Rachel and it's not fair to leave Elizabeth alone with the girls at a time like this," he concluded, nodding self-righteously.

"Fair enough," she agreed.  "But I trust the rest of you have no pressing commitments in 3 weeks time?"  Her brisk looks around the group forced them into submission.  Carter, Susan and Luka wearily shook their heads.  

"Excellent, I'll get right onto arranging our transport and accommodation.  You know, I really think this is going to be highly beneficial, both for you personally and for the department as a whole," Dr Weaver concluded enthusiastically.

Mark smirked as the others raised their eyes to heaven.  This was going to be fun.


	2. Part 2

Title: New York, New York

Author: Anna (tinfoiltiarasxx@aol.com)

Part: 2/?

Rating: PG13

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters

Susan nervously gripped the armrests of her seat in coach, as the plane slowly began to move.  

"You still got that thing about flying, huh?" Carter commented from the seat next to her, smiling.

"What thing about flying?" enquired Luka sympathetically from her other side, concerned that this fear may extend to nausea.

She feigned casualness.  "Oh, you know, I just don't like flying."

"But what happens when you do fly?" 

"Ummm…"

"Panic attacks," Carter butted in helpfully from the window seat.  "But don't worry Luka, she's not gonna throw up on you."

The flight attendant came by with a drinks trolley.  "What can I get for you, sir?"

"What kind of beer do you have?" asked Luka.

"Budweiser, Heineken, Miller," she rattled off, smiling at the handsome foreigner.

"Heineken, please." Surely teeth weren't naturally that white, he thought.  But then again, surely her hair wasn't naturally that blond…

"And how about you, ma'am?" 

"Scotch on the rocks," Susan ordered with conviction.  If that wine she'd had earlier wasn't going to start calming her down, this was definitely do the trick…

"And you, sir?"  

"Just a Coke, thanks," Carter replied, smiling.  There was just something about that uniform…

"There you go, a Heineken, a scotch on the rocks and a Coke.  If you're wanting anything else just let me know, and I hope you all have a pleasant flight."

"Thanks," They replied simultaneously.  

"So, how come Kerry isn't flying with us?" Luka wondered.  "She wasn't working, was she?"

Carter shook his head.  "No, she got off when I did."

Susan took as big a gulp of her drink as she dared; tilting her head back as the whisky burned it's way down her throat.

"I believe her exact words were that she had "stuff to do" before she left."

"Well, that makes everything crystal clear," Luka commented.

"She's booked herself a first class ticket and doesn't want to risk bumping into any of us," postulated Carter.  "Like, what was that thing about needing to have her own hotel room while making us share all about?"

"I don't mind."  Susan threw in happily, having got her own room out of the deal.  "She told me that she snored, seemed kind of embarrassed about it, actually…"

Luka smiled.  "Really?"

"Oh yeah, like an old man or something," Carter interjected, as he stared out of the window at the clouds, sipping his Coke thoughtfully.   Luka and Susan exchanged surprised looks.  

"And you know this how?" asked Susan laughingly, becoming somewhat tipsy.

He turned round to face them, trying to seem nonchalant while regretting what had slipped out.  He was so going to get mocked for this.

"Oh, I rented her basement apartment for a while a few years back."

Susan giggled. 

 "So what you're telling us is that you used to live with Weaver?" Luka confirmed, keeping a poker face.

"It wasn't like that," Carter explained patiently, starting to go red. "I was looking for somewhere to stay, one of the ads I found was for her place, one thing led to another…"

"One thing led to another, huh?" Susan managed to get out amidst her laughter.  He may be her boyfriend, but Carter was just too easy to embarrass.  Faced with such a bizarre mental image, Luka also begin to crack up.  Blushing, Carter cast his eyes to heaven.

"God, you guys are so immature…I'm going to the bathroom."

They retook their seats as he departed down the aisle.  Another but remarkably similar to the first, a flight attendant passed by.  

"I trust you have everything you need?" She enquired out of rote, with the standard smile.

"Yes, I'm fine, thank you," Luka replied politely.

"I'll have another scotch, thanks," Susan requested, figuring it wouldn't hurt since the first one had done the trick so well.

A couple of hours and three more miniature bottles of whisky later, Luka, finding himself all alone, decided to steal Carter's window seat.  

"We shall shortly be coming in to land in New York John F Kennedy International.  It's a cold evening and there was a little snow earlier, so you'd better wrap up warm, and those who are continuing the journey by car are advised to drive with caution and keep well below the speed limit.  Thank you for flying American Airlines and we hope that you enjoy your stay in New York."

In the bathroom, Carter was holding Susan's hair back as she, pale, sweaty and with rings of mascara round her eyes, retched over the toilet.  

"God," she resolved mid-vomit, "I am never going to drink on a plane again.  Ever.  Why didn't you stop me from having that fourth scotch?"

"I tried," Carter replied wearily, rubbing her back as she threw up again.  "So did Luka.  The flight attendant wasn't exactly keen on the idea either…"

"Why is everyone looking at me like that?" Susan wondered, slurring her words slightly, arm round Carter's shoulder as the three exited the plane and started to make their way to baggage claim.  

"I don't know," He lied badly, giving dirty looks to those who were staring.

"You…uh…might want to do something about your eye makeup," Luka suggested gently, smiling.  Well, that at least would be a start.

"Why, thank you Luka, it was kind of you to mention that.  You see, a real man never shies away from the truth," she continued, looking at Carter and feeling the innate sense of insight that comes with drunkenness.  Carter forced himself to smirk.  As much as he hated being unfavourably compared to Luka, at the present moment in time it wasn't exactly worth taking anything she said to heart.   They eventually reached their destination, and Susan made her unsteady way to the bathroom.   

"So…" Luka started, somewhat uneasily as he and Carter waited for the conveyor belt to start moving, "You and Susan are going out, huh?"

"Kind of."

"So…will we still be sharing a room?"

"Uh-huh," Carter replied self-consciously, aware of the conclusions Luka would conclude from that.  After a few moments of awkward silence, he decided it was worthy of an explanation.

"Uh, Susan and I haven't been dating for very long…" A few weeks, normally long enough.

"It's really more of a friendship thing than anything else…" It certainly wasn't a sexual thing, not yet anyway.  "You know…"

"It's okay, Carter, I understand," Luka answered, conscious of the fact that he was probably going to keep ploughing on about this all night unless he said something.  He wasn't getting any, so might as well cut the poor guy some slack…

Disadvantages to marriage number thirty-five, Karen thought as she re-applied her Clinique lipstick, having to kiss him in public when he goes away to business conferences to Hawaii for two weeks.  A green-tinged Susan stumbled into the bathroom.

"Lord, honey, what happened to you?" She commented out of habit.  This kind of disarray was really quite reminiscent of Grace with PMS trying to do Burberry.

Susan winced as she caught sight of her reflection.  God, where could she start?

"Uh, 3 glasses of wine and 4 miniature bottles of scotch on an empty stomach," she mumbled, having long since lost any hope of maintaining any dignity.   So obviously an amateur, but at least she was trying, Karen thought.  Eyeing her with new respect, she opened her make-up bag.

"I have everything you need."


	3. Part 3

Title: New York, New York

Author: Anna (tinfoiltiarasxx@aol.com)

Part: 3/?

Rating: PG13

Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine

Wandering through the airport in search of Karen, Jack's gaze was drawn towards the two handsome men with a holdall that looked ready to fall apart, two huge and well-used suitcases and a slightly smaller case that looked very expensive.   They seemed to be having a disagreement of some kind.  This must be what monogamy's like, he mused.  Petty arguments, weary compromises…he'd bet that the sex was great, though.

"Okay, so now what?  You stay here with the stuff and I try and find Susan?" Luka suggested, aggravated.  How hard can it be to locate your girlfriend in the main hall of an airport?  Carter shrugged his shoulders. 

 "If you really want, don't see that there's anywhere you could look that I didn't…"  

A somewhat effeminate man approached them, smiling.  

"Excuse me, you guys haven't seen, like, a striking brunette in Armani anywhere, have you?"

Carter and Luka shook their heads simultaneously.  Jack's smile widened – could these guys be any cuter?

"You haven't seen, like, a hungover blonde in Burberry anywhere, have you?" Carter asked, smirking slightly.  Luka just looked confused.

Jack pondered the question for a second, raising a hand to his chin and striking a thoughtful pose.

"I don't think so, but I'll keep my eyes open for one."

"Great." Carter answered, suppressing a grin.

"Uh…we'll keep our eyes open for your striking brunette," added Luka, after a moment's thought.  Being helpful to strangers was the American way, right?

"Oh, thanks," Jack replied, strolling off, having noted the "we".  Two was company, but three was definitely a crowd.

Susan appeared moments later in a whirl of expensive-smelling perfume, her face glowing; her eyes bright and enhanced by the neutral tones Karen had advised her to use; a subtle hint of lipstick; her hair sleek and shining.  

"Oh, my God," Carter remarked, surprised, "No wonder you took so long."

"There was a compliment in there somewhere," Susan replied, having regained some of her usual pragmatism.  Luka smiled, amused.  

"You look great, Susan."  If a little overly made-up, it was definitely worth it to see the look on Carter's face, though…  She smiled back, nonchalantly running a hand through her hair.  Foreign men were always so much more gentlemanly.

"Thanks."

"Can't we go already?" Carter suggested abruptly, pushing his way between his girlfriend and Luka.  

"Good idea." Susan concurred, after exchanging one more laughing look with Luka.   Apart from his being some serious eye-candy she'd never really been attracted to him, but they both realised that winding up Carter was just too easy.  

"So, did you see off…whatever-his-name-was, okay?" Karen enquired, somewhat perkier than a strangely morose Jack, as they wandered out of the airport arm in arm.

"Miguel," Jack corrected.  "Yeah, he said I should come visit him in Puerto Rico some time, like that's gonna happen, shame though; in those three days I'd really been feeling like we'd connected, you know?" He sighed melodramatically.  "Then as if to rub salt into my raw and bleeding wounds, I go bump into like the cutest couple in the world…"

"So you met Mr and Mr Home and Garden," Karen retorted, "Big deal.  Honey, they're probably forced to make conversation for the lack of separate wings in a condo that hasn't been redecorated since the nineties, having about as much sex as you and Rosario, trapped in the constraints of a dead-end commitment ceremony for the sake of their three dogs and adopted child from the Himalayas!"

"One of them was like totally cute, all-American, friendly, with just a little touch of spunk…the other just like stood behind him and smouldered, he had this whole vampiresque thing going on," Jack recounted dreamily.  "Stuff like that really makes me reassess my priorities in my life, you know."

Karen laughed, not unkindly, as they climbed into the back seat of the limo.

"What priorities would those be, honey?"

"I really wanna date someone from Eastern Europe, you know, that accent sent little tiny shivers up and down my spine," Jack contemplated seriously, taking a seat.

"Want to go to Boy Bar tonight and see if we can find one?" Karen suggested, surprisingly thoughtfully.  Jack's face lit up and he clapped his hands in excitement, before turning to her, face tilted to one side.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?"  A second later, a sudden shadow clouded his delighted expression, "Oh, wait, that'll have to be tomorrow night…remember, tonight's Grace's birthday," he pronounced the name with disdain, "Damn you, Grace!  Couldn't you wait another twenty-four hours?"

 "What are you doing for Grace's birthday, poodle?"  Karen enquired, out of a rare politeness.

"Ice-skating - a little childish, but has a certain hokey charm to it, don't you think?  At any rate, it should worth it to see a bunch of mocking five-year-olds whizzing round Will as he lies flat on his ass in the middle of the rink…" As the mental image formed, Karen smirked, concurring.  

"Anyway, I thought you were coming," Jack went on, looking at her curiously.  After a few seconds a light bulb went on reluctantly over Karen's head.

"Oh, you're talking about that Grace!" she realised, "God, now you mention it I do recall her saying something about ice the other day, I definitely remember thinking how I could murder a vodka on the rocks…"

"So, are you coming or not?"  Jack asked, leaning towards her eagerly. 

"Why not, honey?" Karen replied, smiling.  "I could bring the vodka, maybe they'll be able to spare us a couple of cubes of ice; God knows they've got enough of them… Ha ha!"

"Oh, my God, I love New York," Susan gushed as their yellow taxicab neared the hotel.   Luka looked equally entranced, this being his first ever visit to the Big Apple, and Carter raised his eyes to heaven.  For the entirety of the journey, a suddenly perked-up Susan had been doing impressions of a walking guidebook, whereas Luka had been silently staring at everything like some kind of mute alien who'd just landed on a new planet.  God, what he would give for some intelligent company, or alternatively, he thought, yawning, just a few sweet hours of uninterrupted sleep.  Yep, the double shift he had just pulled was starting to take its toll, even despite the caffeine…  The wish was futile, however, for Weaver had only created a schedule of fun evening activities for them to bond over when they weren't being bored out of their skulls on ER management strategies.  Something was definitely up with her - she had been absurdly cheerful lately.  Maybe it was drugs.   Maybe she was finally starting to crack up…  

"Tired?" Luka enquired, watching his head slowly fall onto Susan's shoulder.

"Yeah," Carter acknowledged shortly, quickly raising his head and rubbing his eyes as Luka turned back to the fascinating sights of New York, too beat to think of a bitingly sarcastic reply.  Susan mussed his hair affectionately.  

"Looking forward to the compulsory ice-skating later?" she asked him, smiling. 

"Can't you just tell Weaver I have a headache or something?" he answered wearily.  

"It'll be no fun without you…" 

"It'll be no fun with me.  There are several things that I am sure of and one of them is that human beings were not made to travel across ice balanced on thin gravity-defying blades of metal…" 

"Ice-skating?" Luka repeated excitedly, finally forcing his attention away from the window and towards them as they drew up outside the hotel, "I haven't done that in years."


	4. Part 4

Title: New York, New York

Author: Anna (tinfoiltiarasxx@aol.com)

Part: 4/?

Rating: PG13

Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine

Author's Notes:  Following ff.net's new policy on NC17 fics, I'm soon to be moving all my stuff to a place where all of it can be archived together.  Will leave a note on my profile about where it will be when I do so.  More un-PC humour, craziness, etc.  Please take this seriously, but not too seriously.  

"What's the story?" Luka, clinging to the side of the rink - mainly populated by under-tens with their parents - asked Susan, who stood on the other side, as he attempted to regain his confidence, watching a still grumpy Carter talk on his cell phone.  

"Something about a delayed flight, apparently," she replied, smiling suggestively.  Luka grinned.

"Carter's pissed?" 

"Oh yeah," Susan agreed, "I'm starting to get the feeling that Weaver's up to something."

"Like what?"  She shrugged her shoulders.  

"I don't know…" Carter eventually stormed over, producing a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket and lighting up.

"Since when do you smoke?" Susan enquired, curiously.  

"Since I was doing drugs, on and off," he replied deadpan, watching both her and Luka's eyebrows shoot up as they, torn between sympathy and amusement, pondered how the hell to reply to this.  He smirked, exhaling smoke.  

"What?  You asked."  Susan patted Carter's arm unnecessarily supportively and Luka smiled, feeling a new respect for the younger man.  A dark sense of humour was definitely something that he drew a chord with.  

"What's happening with Kerry?" he asked.

"Well, she kind of kept repeating the words 'my flight was delayed' over and over without actually telling me where the hell she was and when we were likely to see her, if ever…so basically, God only knows," Carter informed them, finally breaking into a genuine smile.  The three of them laughed, taking in the magic of the New York winter scene – children wrapped up warm taking their first tentative steps on the ice, frosty pavements glittering in the sunlight that had persisted despite the cold…

"Oh, my God," Susan remarked abruptly, observing a group of four people, the only other group of those over twenty-five, take to the ice – Grace launching out confidently, a look of sheer delight on her face; Jack and Karen, skating more slowly, arm in arm; Will hanging onto the rail self-consciously, painfully aware that he would have to make the effort since it was Grace's birthday.  Luka and Carter followed her gaze, amusedly recognizing Jack, who had broken free from Karen and was proceeding to do impressions of an ice dancer, while wearing one of those hats with the ear flaps which used to be favoured by Mark Greene.  

"You met that guy too, huh?" Luka enquired.  

"Uh-uh," Susan shook her head earnestly, "I met the one in all the fur in the airport bathroom - she was my saviour."

"So, she was the miracle worker?"  Carter commented, smiling.

"Yep," Susan confirmed, "Seriously, I owe this woman my life…  Put your skates on, Carter," she ordered him, turning to him suddenly, "Let's go over and say hi."

"Oh, my God!" Jack exclaimed excitedly, exiting a double toe loop to observe Luka tentatively making his way round the side of the rink.  Turning round, Luka, friendly as ever, caught his eye and smiled.

"Hi.  I take it you found your striking brunette…" Smiling, Jack nonchalantly indicated Karen.  Luka's smile widened as he put two and two together.

"And you, your hungover blonde…" Jack continued flirtatiously.  

"Oh yeah," Luka nodded, indicating Susan, who had just made her way onto the ice, holding a nervous-looking Carter's hand, obviously more for his benefit than hers.  Frowning, Jack started to doubt the accuracy of his usually reliable gaydar.  

"So, you and him aren't…you know, an item?" Luka's mouth gaped open by reflex.  How anyone could get such an impression mystified him, the thought was almost laughable, but this man actually looked serious…  

"Uh, no, he and I aren't…an item," he replied, with a stunned grin.  

"Weird," Jack commented, shrugging, "Guess my gaydar must be overdue for it's yearly service."  He sped off in sudden disinterest and moderate embarrassment, as Luka, still slightly bewildered, looked curiously all around himself, wondering at what had just taken place.   Then his eyes settled on an attractive redhead who was coming his way…

"What was that about?" Grace, holding a smile as she made eyes at Luka, hissed to Jack as they passed each other by.

"Heterosexuality, the curse of the human race," Jack replied with disgust.

"I know!" Grace clapped her hands in delight, "I think he's looking at me!"

As they turned to look, Luka casually shifted his gaze to the other side of the rink, where Susan and Carter were meeting Karen and Will.

"Yeah, he's looking at you," Jack confirmed glumly, "God, sometimes I just wish I had the hoo-hoos and the hee-hee…" Realising what he had just said, he looked down at himself with revulsion. "Oh dear God, I cannot believe I even thought that!" he shuddered,  "So gross!  I feel contaminated; I need to go home and take some ipecac and have an hour-long shower, I feel…"

"Gotta go," Grace butted in calmly, raising a finger to Jack's lips to silence him, and heading not so subtly in Luka's direction.  Sighing dramatically, Jack began to skate towards Karen to tell her of his woes.  Luka watched entranced as Grace neared him, skating confidently, without a care in the world, in a grey three-quarter length coat and pale pink hat, scarf and gloves; her eyes sparkling; her hair in perfect cascades down her shoulders.   Willingly herself not to whistle…or scream, for that matter, at the guy's sheer smouldering hotness, Grace nonchalantly swung in beside him as he stood by the side, watching all the skaters.

"It's beautiful, huh?"  He commented wistfully, his eyes misting slightly, recalling memories of the Christmas he and Daniella had taught Jansa and Marko to skate.  Looking at him in awe, Grace felt as if she could swim in those deep, dark pools of eyes.  

"Yeah," she answered shyly, surveying the scene in a new light. 

"Hi!" Susan greeted Karen enthusiastically.   Having been dragged along against his will, Carter, still not in the best of form, forced what he hoped was a friendly smile onto his face.  Nearby, Will, fumbling with his skates in an attempt to show evidence of a valid reason not to be skating, watched with mild interest as they approached Karen, who was leaning on the rail, swigging from a hip flask with a blank expression on her face.  

"Hi, honey," she replied, with the smile she used for strangers, "Oh, shoot, I'm having the toughest time placing you, can't you just give me a teensy little hint?"  

"Ladies room in JFK, you did the whole "Lord, honey, what happened to you thing", I admitted my mid-flight alcohol intake, you fixed my hair and make-up…okay, gave me the advice I've been looking for my whole life," Susan answered truthfully, hiding her disappointment at not being recognised well. 

"Riiiiiiight," Karen responded, "And what was your name again?"

"Susan.  You called me Sally," Susan informed her.

"Uh-huh," Karen replied distractedly, surveying her handiwork, "No need to flatter me though, sweetie, I think my work speaks for itself."

"Oh, yeah," Carter concurred, smirking.  Turning back to him as if becoming suddenly aware of his presence, Susan flashed a fake smile.

"Thank you," she told him.  Following her line of gaze, Will liked what he saw.  But unlike Jack, he didn't tend to see the point of making moves on heterosexuals…

"You're welcome," Carter countered lovingly.  

"Who the hell are you?" Karen enquired, smiling.  

 "John Carter," he answered, extending a hand clad in expensive glove.  Karen caught his eye thoughtfully, raising her hand to her chin.  That name definitely rang a bell somewhere.  "Not one of *****the* Carters are you?"  Carter started to blush as Jack joined the group, subtly butting in between Karen and Will. "Oh, don't tell me, you're John Truman Carter the Third, Millicent's youngest grandson, Jack and Eleanor's son, the black sheep of the family who wanted to play doctors and nurses instead of getting the huge payback anyone who is born with or otherwise acquires your kind of breeding deserves?  Huh?"  She broke into a grin, prodding Carter in the chest with her finger.  "Tell me I'm right!" Karen retreated, taking another sip of her vodka, to survey the victim she had made of Carter.  

"Just shoot me now!" He, still blushing furiously, hissed into Susan's hair, Will now standing on his other side and overhearing every word with growing interest.  "Who in the name of God is this woman?"  

"Karen Walker, second wife of Stan Walker, who works at our friend Grace's office as a means of keeping her feet on the ground," Will injected quietly to Carter and Susan, as Jack, gesturing dramatically, recounted his disappointment at Luka's heterosexuality to Karen.

"And Grace would be…" Susan wondered, somewhat louder than she intended and five widening pairs of eyes turned to focus back on the rink where a glowing Grace and Luka were skating round, hand in hand.  The ringing of Carter's cell phone shattered the silence.  

"Hello?" he answered it, drawing back slightly from the group, "Dr Weaver?  Where the hell are you?"


End file.
